


Signs

by ravensurana



Series: Take Me By The Hand [1]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: ASL, Amaya knows what she wants, Canon Compliant, Deaf Character, Enemies to Friends, F/F, GDI why don't I get to pet a giant tiger, Janai is a useless lesbian, Slow Burn, actually KSL, first in a series of one-shots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22516192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensurana/pseuds/ravensurana
Summary: Janai's army will reach the Storm Spire tomorrow, and she wants to give them every advantage they can get. Even if it means learning to speak with the human she imprisoned, and who she now finds herself starting to befriend....
Relationships: Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince)
Series: Take Me By The Hand [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620031
Comments: 13
Kudos: 178





	Signs

Janai sat atop a high, flat rock just outside her army’s camp, gazing heedlessly past the distant shape of the Storm Spire jutting into the clouds. A full day's march ahead. Perhaps more, considering the ragged state of the remnants of the Sunfire army, salvaged from the chaos as their sun went dark and their queen fell....

She shook her head, refusing the thought. Her heart was heavy with grief, but grief could come later, in the dark and calm after the battle. For now, she had but one objective: protect the Dragon Queen with her life. Against a foe Janai and her army had little hope of defeating.

But they had to try. The Golden Knight of Lux Aurea would _not_ sit back and let this human destroy any more lives.

 _Humans are monsters,_ whispered a voice in her mind. Her sister's voice. Janai had never seen evidence to the contrary, in skirmishes over the border and swiftly repelled incursions. Vile humans had used their dark arts to slay the King of the Dragons not a year ago, and many of the queen's Council had insisted this was but the first step toward all-out war.

Janai had been among them. She'd personally requested her posting at the 'Breach', the only feasible way for humans to cross from their own lands to Xadia in strength. She'd had dreams, even then, of driving off an invasion single-handed. Of returning to Lux Aurea a hero. Of finally winning recognition from a sister who seemed at times just as distant as any of the other leaders of the lands of Xadia.

There would be no recognition now. All she could hope for was justice.

Her foot jarred as someone knocked on the sole of her boot.

Janai started, nearly sliding from the stone. She found a handhold and turned, biting back a curse--it was her own fault that she’d allowed herself to become so off-balance.

The figure--the human--who’d approached her while she was distracted took a step back, and Janai looked down at a stern visage. One which she'd once dreamed of defeating, seeing laid low before her; one which she now found herself growing inexplicably fond of.

Such emotions should be set aside, just as the grief. It was a time of war.

"Did you need something?" Janai asked, though she wasn’t certain what she expected. She had left her interpreter back in Lux Aurea, balking at the thought of bringing such a timid civilian into a warzone. At the time, she hadn’t considered what more she could learn from the human woman, nor how they would communicate should the need arise.

Janai regretted the decision now, made in the heat of the moment, but she could not change what had been done. She must move forward, regardless.

The woman pointed to herself, then crossed her wrists before her, brow raised and mouth twisted wryly. Next she gestured across the camp, rudimentary as it was, and pressed her hands together, tilting her head to rest on them.

This much, at least, Janai could understand. As Janai’s prisoner, where would the woman be sleeping? A good question--there hadn’t been time to grab much in the way of supplies as Janai’s army fled Lux Aurea, racing to leave before the false king returned to his troops and resumed their march toward the Spire. Most of the army were spreading out bedrolls on the sparse grass, side-by-side with their fellows. 

Or--was the woman asking two questions? Where would she sleep, and was she still a prisoner?

"You’ll sleep beside my tiger, as will I," Janai said, gesturing to where her winged mount lounged, halfway across the camp’s perimeter--few of her troops dared approach it. She didn’t know where to begin with the ‘prisoner’ question. Some of the soldiers still looked at the human in their midst with mistrust, even anger. It was safer for them to believe that Janai still controlled the woman, even if she and Janai both knew that had never been the case.

The woman’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded once, "Yes." Her hand twitched, as though she was about to ask something else, but she stilled it with a grimace, turning to look across at the activity of the army setting up for the night.

As though drawn by the motion, Janai’s own hand raised to get the woman’s attention--and ask her what, precisely? _She may have information on the false king, on his forces,_ Janai thought, _but how am I to understand her if she tells me about them? I know nothing of her language, and such a discussion would be too complex for pantomime gestures._

But--perhaps she could _learn_ some of the woman’s language, enough to at least gain some insight into what the army would be facing at the Spire? Their time was short, true, but the sunlight would remain for a while yet. If, somehow, she and this woman could come to a mutual understanding, lives might be saved in the coming battle.

Janai reached down, tapped the woman on the shoulder. She looked up, shock of soft brown hair swept across her forehead, deep scar cut into the line of her cheek. "What is your name?" Janai asked, careful to keep her face visible, to speak as clearly as possible.

The woman's gaze sharpened, eyes intent, and Janai caught a breath at how this transformed the human's face. Her features were not so dissimilar from those of elves, Janai thought. Her eyes, which had seemed so dull in captivity, glimmered like amber in sunlight. Hers was a strong face, an intelligent face....

A beautiful face?

Janai swallowed, not entirely comfortable with the realization that she was looking at the human in the same way she might look at an elven woman who had caught her eye. The woman's features were angular, stubborn, but not without appeal--Janai’s gaze trailed along the line of the woman’s jaw, the cast of her eyes. This face was the face of a warrior, like Janai's own, and that in itself lent something that otherwise might have been lacking.

Caught up in contemplation, Janai almost missed when the woman gestured with her left hand, held beside her face. The motions were too far away, at too oblique an angle for Janai even to pick one out from the rest, much less understand them.

 _I don't know why I thought this would work,_ she thought, frustration rising within her. This emotion, she thought, was safe. Frustration could be channeled into her sun-granted abilities, to fuel her on the battlefield.

But it was _not_ helpful at the moment, trying to understand a woman who might just be too different from Janai for true understanding to be possible.

She thought of the army camped beside them. A mere two hundred warriors, all knowing they might perish at the hands of the false human king, but willing to fight regardless.

She owed it to them to keep trying.

Janai channeled her frustration into a low breath, let out slowly, and a nascent idea began to form in her mind. The light in the woman's face had dimmed as Janai showed no sign of comprehending her, but the woman's brows rose as Janai slid back on the rock and slapped a palm down onto the stone before her. "Climb up here," Janai said, acutely conscious of the unfamiliar effort of keeping her face in clear view. "I can see you better from here."

The woman frowned thoughtfully, then gave a sharp nod. "Yes." Unthinking, Janai reached down to take the woman's hand, to help her up, and was hit with a sudden, strong sense-memory of her own fingers slipping from the stone of the Breach, the woman reaching down to pull her to safety--

Lightly gloved fingers were strong in hers as the woman pushed off the ground, clambering up to sit, legs crossed wide and dark eyes alert, before Janai. 

"Your name, again, please?" Janai asked.

The same motions again, slower now, but she could comprehend their meaning no better than before. _I have no frame of reference,_ Janai thought, heart sinking. _No way to tell what those gestures mean. Why did I think this would help?_

The woman bit her lip, glanced away, strong dark brows drawn down over those glimmering eyes. Then she snapped her attention back to Janai, jabbed a finger at her own chest, made the motions again.

"I can't--" Janai began, but fell silent as the woman pointed to Janai's chest, sharp eyes alert, focused on Janai's lips.

_Oh. Oh!_

An alphabet--of course. Though humans had developed their own script in the thousand years since the land had been split, the spoken languages so near the border still differed very little. Learning to use the simple human alphabet had been an early part of Janai’s political training.

"Janai," she said, then worried that the woman hadn't caught the nuance of the vowels--she knew from some small experience that reading lips was vastly inaccurate at the best of times. So she spelled it, careful not to over-exaggerate any of the letters. "J-A-N-A-I."

Understanding flashed in the woman's eyes. She brought her left hand up, level with her face, just as she had before. She was holding up one of her fingers--the 'pinky', that strange little finger that Janai had always thought so useless--and as Janai watched, she drew it down in a curve. Janai blinked, startled. The woman had _drawn_ a letter J.

"J?" she asked. The woman actually smiled, and it lit up her face like sunrise. Janai couldn't help but find an answering smile twitching at her own lips. "And A?" she asked.

The woman held up a loose fist, thumb held parallel to the others. Then she shifted the thumb, slipping it between her second and third fingers--an N? Back to the position for A, and Janai found herself copying the motion. She thought she'd seen at least one A in the woman's own name, now she was getting a better feel for the gestures. Finally the pinky came up again, held in place. I.

Janai smiled, looking eagerly at the woman's hand. "Again?" she asked, and this time tried to copy everything. There was a lovely symmetry to her name, spelled this way, that she had never before noticed. J-A-N-A-I.

"And... your name again?" Janai asked.

The woman spelled patiently. A. N--no, that wasn't an N, Janai had just got confused by how many fingers the woman had. Another letter she didn't know, then. Another A. A sign more enthusiastic than the others, pinky and thumb spread wide. Another A.

 _Well, that's a start,_ Janai thought wryly, then realized what more she could do to help. "Wait," she said, and held up her own hand in a fist, thumb parallel. "A," she said, and the woman nodded. "And B?"

The woman tossed her windblown hair out of her eyes, holding her palm toward Janai, thumb stretched across it. Janai copied the motion, trying to lock it into her muscle memory, well honed from years of weapons practice. "C?"

A curved hand, almost like a claw. C. Claw. Easy enough. "D."

They went through the alphabet together, slowly, Janai holding each letter into place until she could feel how it went together. D. E. Janai's F wasn't the same as the woman's, with only two fingers spread wide, but it was recognizable enough--and she needed only to recognize these signs, not reproduce them herself. 

G. H. She was momentarily stymied by I, and held up her third finger instead. It wasn't as simple as the fluid motion the woman used, held slightly crooked as it was by the tendons in her hand, but it was serviceable. J she signed with a smile, matched by the woman sitting across from her. K. L.

'M' was a problem. The woman tucked her thumb between her pinky and the finger next to it, and Janai reached instinctively for the gap between her second and third fingers--but no, that was N. She studied the woman’s hand, tried simply tucking her own thumb beneath her fingers, but the shape was lost.

The woman eyed Janai’s hand critically, then reached out, raising an eyebrow. Not quite certain what she was agreeing to, Janai held out her own hand, meeting the woman halfway.

The woman’s gloved fingers--soft leather, warm as bare skin--were startlingly gentle as she pressed Janai’s thumb against her palm, then drew Janai’s fingers down to wrap around it, all four nails visible. "M", the woman signed again as she drew away, leaving Janai’s fingers feeling strangely cold in the evening air.

Janai clenched and unclenched her fingers, finding a balance between visibility and comfort. Finally, she held up the completed sign. The woman tilted her head, her gaze searching, then nodded, "Yes." Janai found herself unexpectedly warmed by the praise, and held up the next sign unprompted. _N_.

The woman actually laughed--a breathy huff, soundless, her shoulders twitching. She repeated the motion, "N". O came next, and Janai followed along. P, Q, R, S, T, U, V....

W was another letter that didn't quite work. Janai's first attempt looked too much like B, and she spread her fingers wider, emphasizing the difference, just as with U and V. X. And then... then came Y. The gesture that had been so emphatic, so enthusiastic, in the woman's own name was an awkward, cramped stretch of fingers for Janai.

She stared glumly at it, with the realization that she had never in her life expected to regret having three fingers instead of four. Human hands had seemed so cumbersome until this moment, until the woman before her used them to make words that looked like art. Like magic.

Y, and finally Z. Y had been in the woman's name, and Janai realized she now recognized the other sign as well--it had been M, so easily mistaken for N. She looked up, excited at the realization. "Amaya!" she said. "Your name is Amaya!"

Amaya applauded silently, tapping the fingers of her right hand against the heel of her left, lips twitching into a wry smile that tugged one corner of her mouth higher than the other. Her eyes glimmered with amusement. She made a fist, bobbed it toward Janai as she nodded, and chuffed Janai gently on the shoulder. _You’re easily amused,_ Janai understood, the teasing gesture sending a frisson of warmth through her.

 _Amaya._ Janai wasn't certain what she'd expected from human names--something heavy, flat, dull, perhaps--but this wasn't it. 'Amaya' was light, airy, almost gossamer. Janai couldn’t help but whisper it again, tasting it.

The unexpected lightness of the name fit, somehow--Amaya herself was nothing like Janai had expected from a human. Pure of heart, brave and resourceful, noble and honorable in battle. She'd bested Janai thrice, without magic, without weapons, then turned around and saved her life. Sharp wit edged her face, grace guided her every motion. Janai found herself longing to learn more of the woman's language, to see how her words were shaped, to gain some insight into how she thought.

Someone shouted Janai’s name.

Blinking as though waking from a dream, Janai turned to see one of her soldiers beckoning her. She glanced back toward Amaya, true regret tugging at her heart. "I’ll be right back," she said.

Her next words were a bare whisper. "Please stay."

Amaya pressed one hand to her chest, bowing deeply--though not so deep that Janai couldn’t see the impudent smile twisting Amaya’s lips. She leaned back on the rock, propping herself on her elbows, and tossed her head to shake the sweep of hair from her eyes. As Janai turned away, she could swear she saw Amaya wink at her.

 _Did she--was she_ enjoying _herself, speaking with me?_

Janai jumped down from the stone, boots tossing up puffs of dust from the dry earth below. She shook her head to clear it, and let the soldier lead her to a makeshift tent in the center of the camp. There, she directed people to distribute food before nightfall. Oversaw the storage of weapons and supplies. Made plans for when to set out once morning came.

And the entire time she worked, she found her fingers moving. Painstakingly spelling out words, fumbling and slow. _Supplies. Troops. Army. Marching._

_Janai._

_Amaya._

###### 

The sun’s light was all but gone by the time Janai made her way back to the stone on the edge of camp, a roll of parchment and a piece of charcoal tucked into her belt pouch, a cloth-wrapped bundle of food in one hand. To her dismay, the stone was empty.

 _You can hardly have expected her to just sit there and wait for you,_ Janai admonished herself. It had been a surprise that Amaya had been willing to speak with her in the first place. Had Janai truly thought--

Sounds from behind Janai caught her attention: the clank of armor, the rustle of grass, a hastily expelled breath. She whirled, reaching for her sword--and halted, her gaze arrested.

Amaya--eyes closed, face serious--twisted from the grip of an imaginary assailant, drawing one leg around in a kick that made Janai, a dozen feet away, take a reflexive step back. Amaya ducked beneath an answering blow, brought one forearm up with jarring force, and swept her leg along the ground, kicking up a plume of dust. Her motions were so precise, so expressive, that Janai could all but see her opponent tumble to the dirt below with an impact that would knock breath from lungs.

Amaya twisted, dropping to a crouch that let her slam her forearm down, pressed across a nonexistent throat. She let out a sharp breath and opened her eyes at last, tossed her head to shake her hair from her eyes as she stood. Her face shone in the last orange glimmers of the sunset, light trailing along the sharp point of her jaw and the soft curve of her nose.

Janai found she was breathing hard, as though she, too, had been fighting. Facing an opponent was one thing, testing skill against skill in a clash of motion and sound and the looming threat of death. It was entirely different, she realized now, to have the freedom to watch an exceptionally skilled fighter move. To see her form, her strength, without needing to respond in kind.

 _I’m here to give her food, not to stare at her,_ Janai told herself firmly. She let out a long breath, recalling herself to the task at hand, and stepped into Amaya’s line of sight. A soft pang of regret twinged in Janai’s chest as Amaya glanced sharply aside, her pose stiffening.

"I brought supper," Janai said, holding up the cloth. Amaya relaxed, rewarding Janai with a faint smile as she reached out to take the food.

She stepped past Janai, swinging herself back up onto the stone, and took a swig from a waterskin Janai didn’t recall providing. Janai blinked, startled--had Amaya gone wandering through the camp while Janai was gone? The quartermaster was a stern, no-nonsense woman, notorious for her tight grip on the army’s supplies. Was it possible that Amaya had somehow charmed her?

Janai’s line of reasoning was cut short as Amaya settled back, crossing her legs, and patted the stone before her.

Janai’s eyes widened, but she found herself moving without thought, pulling herself up to sit before Amaya once more. "It’s not much," she said, watching Amaya unwrap the cloth, "though it’s probably better than what we fed you back in Lux Aurea."

Amaya flashed her a wry smile, eyeing the chicken dumplings with trepidation, and picked up the Sunforge bun instead. She pressed one hand to her chin, then gestured toward Janai with it before taking a bite.

 _What does that mean?_ Janai wondered. Before she could ask, Amaya inhaled sharply, fanning herself and eyeing the bean-and-pepper bun mistrustfully. Janai had to swallow a laugh. "The rice helps," she said, pointing to the dumplings. As Amaya took another bite, Janai took the chance. "What was that sign?"

Amaya squinted, then touched her lips and shook her head--the sun was only a sliver on the horizon now, apparently no longer bright enough for her to see what Janai said.

Janai reached for the parchment in her pouch--but no, it was growing too dark to read and write, either. Her shoulders slumped, heavy with disappointment. She wasn’t yet ready to call an end to the conversation, but if Amaya could not understand her, then she had no choice but to--

Amaya could no longer read Janai’s _lips_. But there were other ways to be understood.

Janai pressed her own hand to her chin, motioned to Amaya, and shrugged.

Lips twitching into a smile, Amaya bit into another dumpling, then lifted her hand and signed letters that Janai watched intently in the fading light. " _Thank you_."

Janai nodded deliberately, copying the sign again. Then she pointed to the remains of Amaya’s meal and shrugged again, flashing an exaggerated smile and then a frown.

Amaya’s shoulders twitched with a laugh, and she licked grease from her fingers, nodding. "Thank you," she signed again--but no, this time she dropped her left hand into her lap, glancing deliberately at the cloth in her right hand with a smile that crinkled her eyes. 

Janai’s brows drew down in thought--though she found herself distracted by a few grains of rice clinging to the corner of Amaya’s mouth. Her hand itched to cup Amaya’s cheek and brush the rice away with her own thumb, but she blinked, recalling herself to the conversation. _Yes, and then thanks, but not to anyone in particular...._

" _Good?_ " Janai asked, her fingers hesitant, and Amaya’s fist bobbed in a "Yes." She drew the sign again, this time more carefully, bringing her left hand down toward her right. Janai followed suit, committing the gesture to memory. " _And bad?_ " she asked, making certain to hold her fingers up to catch as much light as possible. This conversation couldn’t last much longer, and they needed to sleep before the army moved out in the morning, but Janai found she was loath to leave just yet.

Palm to the chin again, but now as it dropped toward Amaya’s lap, her brows drew down and her nose wrinkled as though she’d smelled something unpleasant. 

Janai mimicked both gesture and expression. Amaya laughed again, sparkling eyes catching the last glint of sunlight. She bundled up the empty cloth, wiping her mouth and fingers, and motioned toward Janai with it, eyebrow raised. Janai shook her head, holding out one hand to ward off the offer. _No, keep it._

Amaya shrugged, tucked the cloth into her belt pouch, and glanced over toward the still-glowing horizon. She held one hand before her face and drew it down, pinching her fingers together, her eyes closing and lips parting slightly as she moved. Then she took a deep breath, looking for all the world like she was asleep sitting up. Opening her eyes, Amaya pointed toward Janai’s twin-tailed tiger, raising one eyebrow.

Regretfully, Janai nodded, and pushed herself up. She slid from the stone, then turned to help Amaya down, the shorter woman’s solid weight settling into her arms for a moment that felt all too brief.

Janai started across the packed earth, Amaya at her side, mulling over the unexpected ease between them. The pleasure of conversing with her. Janai and Amaya might yet only be allies through necessity, but somehow she was not startled to realize just how long it had been since she had thought them to be enemies. Not since the Breach, when the blast had flung Janai from the cliff’s edge and Amaya had chosen to save her. Amaya had trusted Janai then to act with honor, and despite all Janai knew--or had thought she’d known--about humans, she’d somehow found herself responding in kind.

She led the way around the perimeter of the camp to where her mount still lounged, tails flicking idly through the sparse grass. She held out her arm, keeping Amaya from approaching too quickly, and crouched at the tiger’s side.

"This is Amaya," Janai told the tiger, scratching under its chin and smiling as its tongue lolled in a happy yawn. It felt strange, somehow, to be using her voice again. "She’ll be staying with us tonight."

The tiger turned its head, eyeing Amaya, and Janai quashed a flicker of unease. She’d seen twin-tailed tigers turn on even experienced handlers, sensing evil thoughts lurking somewhere deep within them--but she hadn’t needed the Light to know that Amaya was pure of heart. Janai was certain the tiger’s claws would remain sheathed, its teeth unbared.

Amaya eyed the tiger warily. The two of them sized one another up in the gloom, lit only by the flickers of firelight from across the camp. Then the tiger heaved itself up, padding toward Amaya--

It ducked its head, butting its face against Amaya’s side. As Amaya fought to keep her balance, the tiger began to purr, a deep rumble that shivered through the ground at their feet.

Amaya’s eyes widened, a slow grin lighting her entire face. Janai caught her breath, watching as Amaya scratched expertly along the tiger’s jaw, fingers working through the thick, soft fur there. She rubbed her face against its forehead, laughing as its tongue caught the side of her cheek, and settled onto the ground beside it.

_She’s gorgeous._

Reluctantly, Janai tore her gaze from the scene and circled the tiger, retrieving one of the bedrolls she’d stashed beside it. She came back around to find Amaya had already begun to remove her own armor, stacking it atop her shield, which sat before the interested tiger. Janai set the blankets down beside her, nodding as Amaya thanked her again, and tried to keep from staring at the muscles Amaya’s armor had half-concealed.

She debated for a moment where she should sleep, and finally spread out her bedroll on the far side of the tiger from where Amaya still sat, stacking her own armor beside the blankets.

Janai closed her eyes, soft fur warm against her back, and slipped into a restless night of uneasy dreams.

###### 

Janai woke in the dim, pre-dawn light with tears half-dried on her cheeks. She lay breathing raggedly for a long moment, thinking deliberately about battle tactics and marching orders. Anything to keep her mind from straying back to Lux Aurea.

A soft rustle from the other side of the tiger was a welcome distraction. She sat up at once, and edged around the tiger to see Amaya already standing, her blankets rolled at the sleeping tiger’s feet. She was frowning down at her breastplate, fumbling fingers trying to hold it in place and tighten the straps--but as Janai came into view, Amaya’s gaze snapped to her face.

Then Amaya smiled, small and wry, and gestured to her armor. She circled one palm on her chest, her expression hopeful, then spelled something. Janai couldn’t understand half the letters, this early in the morning, but the meaning was clear. "Help, please?"

With a firm nod, Janai stepped forward and reached around to tug Amaya’s backplate into its proper position. Pressing one hand against the cool metal to hold it in place, she readjusted the breastplate as well. Amaya gave her a quick nod of thanks, nimbly latching the two pieces of metal together around herself. Then she glanced at Janai’s undershirt and leggings, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

Janai nodded again, holding up her hand and hoping that _wait here_ was clear enough, and darted back around to the other side of her mount. She tidied up her bedroll with haste and tucked it behind the tiger’s head, pausing just a moment to scratch the tiger behind its ears.

Smiling at the tiger’s low purr, Janai scooped up her armor and shoved slightly dusty feet into boots. The rest she brought around, holding up the scalemail shirt and echoing Amaya’s "please".

Amaya took the armor, helping to slide it over Janai’s head, and smoothed the golden scales down with a care that made Janai’s breath go shallow, her heartbeat thumping in her ears. The battle-dress and belt went atop the mail, then the pauldrons and bracers. At last Janai settled the winged headdress into her hair, its weight uncomfortably heavy today. _Like a crown,_ she thought, then banished the concept. She wouldn’t think about that, not now. Not until the battle was won.

She breathed in deep, centering herself, and glanced up to see Amaya idly stroking one hand along the tiger’s back, gazing across the sleeping camp. Few of the exhausted soldiers had yet begun to stir, packing up their gear in the dim light and heading toward the central tent. On any normal march, Janai would already have joined them. Now, though, she shuddered at the thought of huddling in the near-silent tent, side-by-side with people worrying about their home and offering her unwanted condolences.

Amaya caught her eye, then jerked her head toward the stone just outside camp, eyebrows raised.

 _She actually wants to keep speaking with me?_ Janai thought, startled. She gave Amaya a careful nod, trying not to read too much into the request, and the two of them set off to skirt about the camp’s perimeter.

Amaya was the first to reach the stone this time, and she scaled it with surprising ease considering the early hour. Janai, still half-asleep, gratefully accepted the helping hand up. She marvelled at how different the gesture felt, compared to the last time Amaya had pulled her up by the hand. They’d faced each other still as opponents, then, both uneasy about their tentative truce. Now Amaya dropped to sit before Janai without the slightest hesitation, signing something as soon as Janai settled onto the rock.

Janai squinted at Amaya’s hands in the growing light, mind working sluggishly. "Good" she recognized from last night, but she didn’t know the second word, Amaya’s left hand sliding out of her right palm and bending up around it as her right hand flattened. "Again?" Janai asked, and Amaya moved slower this time, fingertips rising over the line of her palm, like--like a sunrise, Janai realized, as Amaya glanced deliberately aside at the eastern horizon.

"Good morning?" Janai clarified. Amaya nodded, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth as Janai copied the motions. Bolstered by this success, Janai tried something further: drawing her hand down before her face in the sign for ‘sleep’ from last night, then ‘good’ again. She finished with a shrug, the casual gesture belying her anticipation.

Amaya’s smile widened, her lips parting. Her approval sent warmth fizzing through Janai’s chest. Amaya bobbed her fist twice toward Janai and nodded, "Yes." Then Amaya copied _Janai’s_ words, "Sleep well," but instead of shrugging, she simply pointed to Janai, raising her eyebrows questioningly.

A beat later, Janai realized this _was_ a question, not just a correction. She held up her own fist, then hesitated--’yes’ wasn’t true, but did Amaya truly want an answer, or was her question merely polite? 

_I don’t think she’d ask a question she didn’t want an answer to,_ Janai decided, and asked, "How do you sign ‘well enough’?"

Amaya held out one hand, palm down, and tipped it from side to side. Janai’s eyes widened as she copied the sign--the gesture was a familiar one. She’d used it for much the same purpose in the past.

_Of course--human spoken languages developed from elven. Why wouldn’t human sign language have influences from elven body language?_

Janai frowned at her hand, and asked, "And how would I ask to sign something? In signs, so you don’t have to watch me speak?"

Amaya’s face lit, though her brows pinched a moment later. She brought up her other hand and circled her index fingers around each other, toward herself.

Janai mimicked the gesture, memorizing its fluid motion. _To sign._ Amaya nodded, her smile tugging the corner of her mouth higher, lighting her eyes.

That _smile_. Janai wanted to keep signing, just to keep that light in Amaya’s face.

She scrambled for another word, and realized that she could say ‘yes’, but not ‘no’. " _No,_ " she spelled, and circled her fingers toward herself, watching Amaya carefully.

Amaya’s brows drew down again, and she pointed deliberately to them. " _Question, what,_ " she spelled.

Janai tried again--N-O, then the circling fingers, but this time adding in the expression. Her pulse quickened when Amaya flashed her an encouraging grin. Amaya held up her thumb and first two fingers, and pinched them together twice as she shook her head.

 _No_ , Janai told herself, copying the sign, trying to think of some way to keep from forgetting it. She was pushing herself too fast, she thought, trying to learn so much so quickly--but it was a pleasant diversion, and watching Amaya grow more animated the more she spoke with Janai filled her with an aching sort of contentment.

The first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon then, painting the side of Amaya’s face in gold. Amaya squinted, shifting position so she could see better. Her gaze caught on something over Janai’s shoulder, and Janai turned to see the bustle of the camp had increased while she’d been distracted. More than half the spots of matted grass lay empty of bedrolls now, soldiers tugging on armor or ducking toward the latrines or heading into the main tent.

Janai sighed, recalled to her place--her position as leader, seated outside her army’s encampment. Her people still reeled from an attack of such enormity that they hadn’t known its like in centuries. Tomorrow they would be the last line of defense for another people’s monarch, having already lost their own.

She had been able to forget her worries for a brief, glorious moment, but she would soon need to face the weight of the task before them.

Amaya apparently caught the change in tone. She settled back on their shared stone, fingers splayed across the cool surface, watching Janai's lips intently. In any other situation, the scrutiny would make Janai blush. Even now, even knowing Amaya's attention was strictly professional, it was a distraction. 

"We’ll march out once the sun finishes rising," Janai said, turning her face into the light, the better for Amaya to read what she said. "The Storm Spire is less than a day’s march from here, if we move quickly. There we will prepare to greet your false king--to keep him from reaching the Dragon Queen any way we can."

She didn’t bother to mention that the task was all but hopeless. That knowledge shone in Amaya’s eyes, the slant of her shoulders, but the stubborn set of the woman’s jaw said that they would try regardless.

Janai glanced again at the movement in the camp. They had some time, yet, before they needed to set out. After the laughing ease of last night--brash, bold Amaya’s unexpected patience with Janai’s fumbling, the wit and humor in Amaya’s face--it pained Janai to bring up such weighty matters, but her people needed information.

She wet her lips, then asked, "What do you know of the false king?"

Amaya grimaced, the lines in her face going hard with old pain. She brought up her hand, signing slowly enough that Janai could catch most of the letters, leaving out unnecessary words. " _Viren._ " Janai copied the name hesitantly, and Amaya nodded. " _King’s advisor,_ " she said, and twisted her wrist, lowering her hand to rest on her shoulder, a melancholy distance to her gaze.

A chill shivered down Janai’s spine despite the warm morning air as Amaya blinked, inhaled sharply, kept signing. " _Dark magic. Ambitious. Ruthless._ " She grimaced, then made a sign Janai didn’t know: one hand pressed to her chest, the other circling before it, clenched into a fist with her thumb jutting into the air. Her brows drew down, the concept apparently lost to her second language of clumsy spoken words, and she brought her hand up to form letters.

"Wait," Janai said, stilling Amaya’s motion. She reached into her pouch, drew out the charcoal and single roll of parchment--her army scribe had been reluctant even to part with these.

Janai had hoped, though she knew the thought was foolish, that she wouldn’t have to resort to writing. That she would somehow be able to learn enough, in such a short time, to understand the complexities of a serious discussion. But she still knew little more than fingerspelling and pantomime gestures, and there was no shame in using all the tools at her disposal.

"It’s not much," she said, with an apologetic grimace, "but I thought this would be easier than spelling everything I don’t know."

Amaya pressed a "Thank you" to her chin and smoothed the parchment out on the stone. _Selfish,_ she wrote, just as laconic as her speech, using as little parchment as possible. _Power-hungry. Manipulator._ This last word was written emphatically, accompanied by pinched brows and curled lips. _Planned political assassinations on..._ Amaya frowned, tapped the charcoal gently against the stone, continued. _My nephews, the princes. Don't know if...._

Her hand clenched into a fist, and she drew a line through these last three words, denying them. She closed her eyes tight, breathing deep, composing herself. Her lips pressed into a tight line. Janai recognized suppressed grief in the pained set of Amaya’s face, her hunched shoulders, drawing an answering pang from Janai’s own heart.

 _Arrogant,_ Amaya wrote at last. _Uses dark magic for everything--shortcuts. Evades the consequences._ She let out a sharp breath. _He believes his cause makes all his actions right. Even evil acts._

Janai found herself leaning in, resting one hand beside Amaya’s. Janai could feel the heat of Amaya’s skin on her own fingertips, despite Amaya’s gloves. "Then we will prove him wrong," Janai said.

Amaya's smile was wry, but it was there, at least. She frowned down at the parchment, continued to write--spelling out what she knew of the man and his tactics, his strategies. Her depth of knowledge was welcome, if disturbing.

‘The most dangerous human in the world,’ Amaya had called him. Reading Amaya’s account of secret dungeons, dark magic rituals, and backstabbing plots, Janai couldn’t help but agree. But--what acquaintance did Amaya, the general overseeing a border fortress, have with a royal advisor? How had she learned so much about what the man was planning, what he’d done?

"Did you spend much time around him at the palace, then, as a guard?" Janai asked. "Before you came to guard the Breach?"

Amaya’s expressive face abruptly shuttered, cold and hard. Janai flinched as though she’d been slapped, half-inclined to apologize, though she had no idea what she could have done to cause offense.

Amaya squeezed her eyes shut again. Breathed deep. Opened them and began to write, squeezing the words into the few clean spaces on the parchment. _Queenguard. Saw firsthand what he’s willing to do. Casualties he’ll accept._ She frowned deeply, scrawled one more sentence, pushed the parchment toward Janai. _He will sacrifice ANYONE to achieve his goals._

Janai shivered, despite the warming air. There was grief in Amaya’s face, and loss, and pain. Who had he sacrificed, to affect Amaya so?

...Wait.

Queenguard, she’d said. But why would a queenguard be stationed so far from the palace, unless there was no longer a queen to guard? Had Viren truly--

The last piece fell into place with horrible finality. _My nephews_ , Amaya had written earlier.

_The princes._

"Amaya," Janai said, leaning in. Though Amaya couldn’t hear how thready Janai’s voice had gone, Janai knew how stricken she must look. "Was the queen--"

The words ‘your sister’ wouldn’t leave Janai’s lips, choked back by the lump forming in her throat.

Amaya met her eyes, something deep and unfathomable in her gaze. She nodded, and her hand came up again, settling against her shoulder with a deliberate finality.

"She was," Janai understood, and swallowed hard. 

_Viren wanted the heart of a titan,_ Amaya wrote, her shoulders slumping wearily. _Dark magic. Led us to battle._

Amaya's fingers brushed, softly, unconsciously, against the scar cut into her cheek. Janai half-expected to see blood staining the leather when she pulled away, physical wounds reopened along with emotional ones. When she wrote next, it was in letters so cramped that Janai had to squint to decipher them. _She died saving him._

"Oh," Janai said, the word yawningly inadequate.

Her hand stole to her chest, clenching there as the grief in her resurged, despite her best efforts to force it down. She drew a shuddering breath. Sister. Amaya’s sister, Queen of Katolis. _Janai’s_ sister, the Sunfire Queen. And this Viren--

_The anger in the queen’s eyes as she looked down at the man, avatar of everything she hated about humanity, everything she’d taught Janai to hate, arrogance and greed and twisted pride--_

Janai tore herself away from the terribly familiar emotions in Amaya’s gaze, exhaling through lips that trembled in the morning air. So this was why Amaya had held Janai back when the queen had fallen. Why she'd looked down at Janai with such... compassion. She'd been in the same place, once. Long enough ago that the pain had time to set into her bones, no longer welling like fresh blood.

"I'm... sorry," Janai found herself saying, not sure if Amaya had seen it. Not sure if Amaya would care.

"Thank you," Amaya signed. She leaned forward to brush her fingertips along the side of Janai’s hand, the touch helping to ground Janai. Amaya’s lips twitched with a smile that didn’t reach the rest of her features.

"What..." Janai began, and went breathless at Amaya's sudden intensity. Janai almost wanted to spell her words, instead of speaking them, but her fingers--normally so dexterous on the hilt of her blade--were still too slow and clumsy for this to be feasible. "What was your sister's name?" she found herself asking, and hastened to add, careful not to speak too fast, "You don't have to answer if you don't wish to, I just...."

She stopped talking, not sure what she'd been about to say, and watched Amaya instead, just as intently as Amaya watched her. The woman made a soft, unfamiliar sign: a G pressed to her chin, dropping to another G resting in her lap, the motions somehow mournful, almost reverent. Then her hand rose, forming words. S-A-R-A-I.

Sarai. Another unexpectedly lovely name, and Janai blinked at how similar it was to her own. "My sister was Khessa," she said, forming the letters as she spoke, the focus required helping to push back the pain. K-H-E-S-S-A. Amaya copied the motions, her smile soft and sad, and made the G-sign again. "Does... does that mean 'sister'?" Janai asked, her voice quiet, though she realized a moment later that her volume hardly mattered.

Amaya nodded, drawing the sign again, slower this time so that Janai could follow along. " _I miss her,_ " she signed, then carefully, " _I am sorry for you._ "

Tears stung Janai's eyes. She flared heat, burning them away. Now, before the battle, was not the time to break down. To mourn. She needed a distraction, and she thought--she hoped--that Amaya, too, could use a break from the weight of their conversation.

Hesitantly, Janai brought up her hand. " _How do you sign danger?_ " she asked, spelling out the word and circling her fingers in the growing sunlight.

Amaya raised a curious eyebrow and--to Janai’s surprise--repeated the sign from before. One hand on the chest, one fist circling.

 _Danger,_ Janai told herself, mimicking the gesture. An accurate description of Viren, to be sure. " _And safety?_ " she asked.

A smile tugged at Amaya's lips again, and she crossed her wrists, the backs of her fists to Janai. Then she broke them apart, twisting them, as though snapping a binding.

" _Attack?_ " Janai asked, and couldn't help but smile--despite everything--as she copied the motion of Amaya's fists coming up, circling sharply like she was about to throw a punch. " _Retreat?_ "

This word was harder for Janai to emulate. Amaya had to show her three times before she could mimic the letter R, escaping from between Amaya's two middle fingers, Janai's second and third. She shook out her fingers a moment later--they had already begun to cramp, and Janai wondered guiltily how exhausting this conversation was for Amaya. It must be strange for her to move so slowly, so deliberately, making certain Janai understood her every gesture.

"Should we get breakfast?" Janai asked, motioning toward the bustling tent and then pretending to put something into her mouth. She didn’t particularly want to leave this bubble of peace and quiet, but nor did she want Amaya to feel as though she had to stay.

Amaya glanced toward the encampment, then back to Janai. She nodded, the motion slow, and the twist of her mouth made Janai think that Amaya was just as reluctant as she to leave.

She shifted her weight, and Janai realized that despite her question, she wasn’t yet ready to face the chaos of the camp. "Wait," she said, her hand rising toward Amaya. She didn’t dare hold Amaya back, but the simple motion was enough to make Amaya turn, her head tilting in curiosity.

"Could... could you tell me something?" Janai asked, feeling almost shy, though unwilling to examine the emotion. "Anything. In your own language. You don't need to translate, it's just... I want to see you speak. You move so beautifully, when you don't have to keep tempering yourself for me."

Amaya's eyes widened, and for a moment Janai was afraid she'd inadvertently caused offense--but then Amaya's smile took on a wicked edge, and she signed something with a rapid, fluid grace that astonished Janai. Amaya's hands twisted and danced, her head tilting and brows lifting to emphasize certain words. Janai could only pick out a few gestures: an emphatic sweep of both hands, folded into V's; two fingers, tapped on the chin; a finger pointed at Janai herself.

Janai’s thoughts were a jumble, her heart beating faster as Amaya's hands came to a rest, folded demurely in her lap, all her attention on Janai's lips again.

"Th--thank you," Janai stammered, realizing a moment later that stammering probably made her harder to understand, realizing a moment after _that_ that it probably wasn't difficult to figure out what she'd just said, realizing after one more beat that she could have just signed it.

Amaya's shoulders shook with mirth, eyes pressed shut by a wide smile that showed a dazzling flash of teeth. Janai's cheeks felt sun-warmed despite the scudding clouds overhead, pulled into a faint spiral about the distant spire, and she looked away from the genuine camaraderie in Amaya's face.

"What do you think awaits us there?" she asked, glancing from the rocky tower to the woman sitting before her.

Amaya's smile faded, but it didn't vanish. " _Battle,_ " she signed, following it with the sign for ‘attack’. " _Death._ " A motion with her flat palms, one facing up and one down, moving as though to turn something over... or to bury it. " _And hope._ " One hand near her temple, the other held before her chest, her fingers fluttering in two gentle wingbeats.

"Hope," Janai murmured. She tilted her head back, looking up at the sky. The rising sun. She resisted the urge to look back, toward Lux Aurea. Now was not the time to think of the past. Now was for the future.

No, now was for the _present_.

"I pray you are right," she murmured, not looking down, but her fingers came up beside her face, stiffly copying the letters so Amaya could still understand her.

The lower curve of the sun broke over the horizon at last, and Janai sighed, heart unexpectedly heavy. It was time for her to take charge again, to lead the army on the final march to the Spire. She touched Amaya’s arm, drawing her gaze away from the landscape, and gestured to the sun, then the camp.

As she turned to slide from the rock, Amaya’s fingertips brushed the back of Janai’s hand. She looked up, warmth spreading from the point of contact.

Amaya’s face was serious as she pointed toward Janai, then herself. She pressed her fists together, circling them to encompass both women.

"We’re in this together," Janai understood, and a smile tugged at her lips despite herself. She nodded, bobbing her fist at Amaya, who flashed her one last smile before turning to slide from the stone.

Janai followed her down, lengthening her stride to catch up as Amaya made her way toward the central tent. It was true they needed to march, but… perhaps they didn’t need to stop speaking just yet. Janai's tiger could easily carry two people. The ride would be a bumpy one, but between the two of them, they could make it work.

An elf handed each of them a warm meal, wrapped in cloth, as they stepped into the command tent. Janai thanked him quietly, fighting the urge to bring her hand up to her chin, and tucked the bundle away.

Heads turned as Janai stepped into the center of the tent, and she breathed in deep, pride threatening to overwhelm her. Her soldiers were tired, pained, but she could see in their faces, their postures, how much they respected her. _Trusted_ her. If tomorrow was to be the day they died, they would die together.

Janai raised her voice, let it ring through the warm air in a rousing speech--and yet, even now, the words tumbling from her with such fluency made her long to learn how Amaya would say them.

A cheer rose from the assembled troops when Janai finished speaking. For a moment, she let herself be swept away by the suddenly-increased bustle as the soldiers scattered to pack their food and the last of their bedrolls, to bring down the tent.

And still, half of Janai wondered how well Amaya would like their breakfast of plantains and pounded yams, as her fingers twitched at her side, spelling out the words.

Amaya stepped forward, standing at Janai’s side as they watched the army assemble. Janai caught her gaze, then nodded toward the tiger. They set off together with long strides, soldiers ducking deferentially out of the way.

Janai retrieved the tiger’s tack from between its feet, smiling as the tiger licked her cheek. Amaya didn’t hesitate to help her fasten buckles and tighten straps, fingers nimble with obvious long practice--though doubtless on vastly different creatures. Nor did she hesitate in climbing up into the saddle once they were finished.

Janai laughed, following suit, and sat backward so that she could still see Amaya. "Will you tell me about your home, please?" Janai asked, as the standard-bearers shouted for the march to begin.

Amaya smiled, bringing her hand up, and Janai settled back, tucking her feet behind the tiger’s wing joints. The march before them would be long--but for once, Janai welcomed that necessity.

And tomorrow... tomorrow was something they could deal with _later_.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my delightful beta reader, who watched the entire series just so she could read my gay fanfiction and then sent me through several rounds of grueling rewrites which more than doubled this monstrosity. (All the best scenes are her fault.)
> 
> I'm by no means fluent in ASL, but I have attended a few lessons, as I work for a captioning service. I apologize if I've misremembered anything--my social anxiety was waaaay too high to approach any of my coworkers and ask 'hey, how would you sign this conversation? also you only have three fingers. no reason.'
> 
> I AM aware that Kazi shows up at the Spire later, but for the purposes of this fic series, they had to stay at home. Which breaks my heart, but I did it for the fluff, so I hope someday they'll forgive me....


End file.
